Green and Blue
by ElsBells
Summary: Faberry. Sequel to I Can See for Miles. It's the summer before college, a year after the trip to Key Largo, and the glee club has graduated from a minibus to an RV. Quinn finds herself headed west this time in a rumbly, orange monster. Five parts.
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1**

**Ohio to Indiana**

Rachel tripped up the stairs at graduation. It was fitting, but not because she was fumbling around in the dark anymore. It was out of excitement and enthusiasm and the fact that her feet just seemed to be moving too fast for her body.

Quinn watched her laugh from the line of graduates, applauding loudly at her girlfriend's blunder. Rachel's cheeks flushed and she gathered herself and received her diploma, taking a moment longer on stage than anybody else had to look out at the crowd and see their faces.

And then she switched her tassel to the other side, carefully navigated her way back down the stairs, and bowed when she got back to her seat without falling again.

A week later, Quinn's own tassel swung from her rearview mirror as she drove herself and Rachel to Finn's house for a start-of-summer barbecue.

Rachel's head was pressed against the window, eyes closed, fingers curled loosely around the hem of her dress.

Quinn watched her for a minute at a stop sign. "You okay, babe?" she checked, reaching over to squeeze Rachel's thigh.

Rachel hummed and nodded against the glass.

"You've been quiet." Quinn prodded.

"I'm fine, Quinn."

Quinn danced her fingers playfully along Rachel's thigh until Rachel squashed them like a bug. She was smiling slightly, and she picked up Quinn's hand to kiss it, and Quinn flicked on her indicator to turn onto Finn's road.

She grimaced at the giant, orange RV parked outside one of the houses.

"Somebody's going on a road trip." Rachel remarked softly, pulling a face that said she was just as repulsed by the neon vehicle as Quinn.

It reminded Quinn of the minibus and the Key Largo trip, and she had to laugh for a second because- what if they'd gone in that? That monster of a vehicle. A glaring, orange beacon on wheels, with the phrase "RIDE WIT US" on the side.

And then Quinn stopped laughing, because it was parked outside Finn's house, halfway up the curb, and her fond memories turned into traumatic flashbacks of minibus flat tires and broken air-conditioning and vomit and a psychotic fat cat.

"Quinn." Rachel whispered, in the tone of voice one would use if they'd just caught sight of a murderer in their own home.

_The call is coming from inside the house. Finn has an RV in his driveway._

Quinn pulled into the driveway right as the front door of the house opened, and a hoard of glee clubbers poured out into the front yard.

"Oh my God." Quinn muttered, hand on the car lock button.

They'd been ambushed.

"Baby, unlock the door." Rachel instructed, tugging at her own handle because she'd never learned how to use all the buttons in Quinn's car. "They'll get to us eventually if you don't."

Quinn snorted a hopeless laugh. "They're not raging zombies, Rachel."

Santana stepped up and banged both fists into Quinn's window, shouting something unintelligible.

Quinn gave her a hand signal that clearly meant "Back the fuck up," and Santana obeyed. Rachel got out of the passenger side and Quinn rolled her eyes and opened her own door, wondering who was responsible for whatever in the world was going on at the moment.

"Hey, guys!" Finn greeted, smiling brightly. "We've got-"

"What the hell is that?" Quinn interrupted loudly, pointing at the RV.

"It's a recreational vehicle, Quinn." Brittany offered helpfully.

Puck frowned and clapped Finn's shoulder. "Dude, when did you roll it up the curb?"

"It wasn't like that when I parked it. It must've moved by itself."

Mercedes emerged from the back of the group and sidled up to Rachel. "Don't stare at it too hard, girl. It'll make you blind again."

Quinn could see that happening. It was a rolling pumpkin. A jack-o-lantern if the lights were on. Rachel half-smiled at the statement.

"We have a proposal for you guys." Mike stated, stepping forward because the rest of his friends obviously couldn't be trusted to act sane for a minute.

Quinn eyed them all warily. She knew exactly where this was going, and she stepped closer to Rachel until she could take her girlfriend's hand.

"San, I think Lord Tubbington's in the engine." Brittany called out conversationally. "Can you help me get him out?"

"Just start the car." Mercedes suggested, looking far too eager. "That should get him out."

Kurt shook his head. "He can't be in the engine, Britt."

"Well he's in there somewhere."

Cutting the brakes and wrecking the wires and drilling a hole in the gas tank, probably.

"We want to go on another trip." Mike said loudly, guiding Rachel and Quinn backwards a few steps. It was like walking away from the sun. Maybe something brighter and more horrific. It burned Quinn's eyes.

"But this time we'll go west, and we'll stay in the RV so that all of our money can go to gas."

Artie nodded. "I definitely bankrupted myself last year."

"And it's our last summer together before college or work or whatever everybody is doing," Mike continued, waving a hand around, "and I think Mercedes and I are the only ones who've seen the Pacific Ocean."

Quinn glanced dubiously at the RV. "How many can it fit?"

"Eight, comfortably." Artie answered.

Rachel laughed wryly. "Who are the three who'll be uncomfortable?"

Puck stepped up, shrugging easily. "We thought we'd switch around. Then everybody can have the same experience and we're all even."

Quinn groaned a little bit at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Okay-no-he's under the spare tire, next to the axle!" was called in the background.

Tina came forward, shoving Puck out of her way. "Look, Rachel, you've been…_off_, lately. I mean, we've all noticed it. You're quiet and careful, and-"

"Wait, no." Rachel interrupted with a frown.

Quinn squeezed her hand. She'd wondered if Rachel was depressed, mildly, or just taking an exceedingly long time to get used to being able to see, migraines and headaches and all. She had no timeline to go by for something like that.

"She's right, bud." Quinn whispered so that only Rachel could hear.

Rachel stared up at her for a second, searching her eyes, and then dropped her gaze to her feet.

"We'll just-we'll use this trip to bring back the real Rachel Berry!" Tina proclaimed. "The one we caught a glimpse of when you fell up the stairs at graduation."

Quinn snorted at that, unable to control herself, and Rachel elbowed her lightly in the ribs.

Kurt walked out of Finn's garage carrying a wrench, a skateboard, jumper cables, and a package of cat food, and Quinn decided for herself, that yes, she would spend another summer with these idiots, because those people trying to extract an overweight cat from the engine of an RV were her friends.

"You'll be my-my… _guide_ again, right?" Rachel asked in a small voice, pulling Quinn's attention back to her. "I mean, I know I'm not blind, but I don't want to be left at the top of a mountain in Colorado."

Quinn tipped forward and kissed away the worried frown on her girlfriend's lips.

"I'm your buddy, Rachel. I'll be wherever you need me."

And just like that, Rachel agreed, smiling softly and nodding and accepting the celebration that Tina and Mike showered on her.

Lord Tubbington emerged from the RV, covered in oil, cat treat in his mouth, and it was such an obvious omen of how this trip would go that Quinn had to laugh.

~oooooooooooo~

"You know, we may never reach the west coast." Quinn mused, dumping a pile of dresses into the duffle bag on her bed.

Rachel was lying next to it, staring up at the rotating fan. Her lips twitched and she nudged Quinn's bag with her elbow. "You didn't think we'd make it to Florida either."

Quinn scoffed. "Yeah, well, we barely did."

"It was enjoyable though."

"You…do you not think you'll enjoy this one?" Quinn questioned, climbing onto the bed and sitting on her knees, watching Rachel closely.

Rachel's eyes flitted up to her. "I really hope I do, baby."

Quinn hummed thoughtfully, tapping a hand on Rachel's stomach. "Maybe it's new scenery you need. A new environment, to get you out of your pretty little head."

Rachel pursed her lips to suppress a smile.

"See?" Quinn gestured at Rachel's face, smiling herself. "Let it out, baby. You have the biggest smile I know."

Rachel rolled her eyes and fixed her gaze back on the fan. "Being in new places might help."

"Yeah?" Quinn raised her eyebrows.

"Just-nothing changes here." Rachel stated. "As long as I'm not consumed by some large mountainous mammal or killed in an earthquake, this trip will be alright."

Quinn smiled. "I'll protect you from the wolves."

Rachel scoffed and lightly slapped Quinn's thigh. "You'd just get us both eaten."

"I dove into the everglades for you, Rach. I'd battle a pack of wolves, easy."

Quinn really just wanted Rachel to smile, and she was glad it was working.

"I think everybody ended up in the everglades at some point." Rachel drawled, eyes sparkling up at her girlfriend.

Quinn shrugged easily and crawled backwards off the bed. "Are you all packed?"

Quinn was working under the assumption that Brittany would be taking up half the RV with all of her luggage, so she was trying to keep her own things to a minimum. She may die of exposure in some forest in Utah when all her clothes disintegrate because they've been lost for months, but she wouldn't have nine suitcases.

Rachel nodded. "Are you?"

"You have pajamas?" Quinn checked, ignoring the question. "And your eye drops and migraine pills? And lots of sunglasses?"

Rachel sighed, nodding again.

Quinn threw a pair of socks at her face, laughing at the grumble she received. "Yes, I'm packed, bud. We can-"

She was interrupted by the resounding rumble of a vehicle outside, louder than the trash trucks and UPS vans, and she just prayed that Finn wouldn't run over her mailbox. She grabbed Rachel's bag and slung her own over her shoulder, and then took Rachel's hand and headed downstairs.

"Wear sunscreen, Quinnie!" Judy called out from the living room, and Quinn laughed and answered that she would, and then ventured in there to give her mom a hug.

"My dads gave me SPF 90." Rachel informed when she returned.

Quinn hummed. If it was possible to drain the color from somebody's skin, SPF 90 would be the thing to do it.

"All aboard!" Finn greeted, hanging halfway out of the RV's door and waving them forward.

He was up the curb, but it was with all of the wheels of the right side of the vehicle, so at least it was even. Quinn hurried to put the luggage in the outside compartments, not wanting this massive, orange eyesore lingering in front of her house for too long.

Rachel went up the steps first, and Quinn followed, bracing herself for what horrors she may find.

The first thing that caught her attention was the driver's seat area, which had to be the size of a small bedroom. There were two black, plush leather seats and a large center console. The dash had more buttons than a jet plane.

"Don't worry, I know how to drive it." Finn assured, grinning confidently.

He must've recognized the terror in Quinn's eyes.

"Um-does anybody else?" Rachel asked skeptically, "Because-I mean, I trust you, Finn, but-"

"Oh yeah, I got this." Puck interrupted, slurping a Big Gulp in the passenger seat. "We'll take turns."

Rachel hummed. "And…what safety features does this vehicle possess?"

Quinn wanted to laugh, but she was curious as well. It would probably end up saving her life.

"There are life jackets under the seats, Rachel!" Brittany called out excitedly. "And I found a raft on top of the little fridge, and I accidentally inflated it halfway, so we put in the closet."

"Yeah, don't go in that closet." Santana warned loudly.

Quinn couldn't even see them. It was like the bus contained multiple worlds. And-was it formerly a ship? What the hell kind of RV came with an emergency raft?

"Front and side air bags, seatbelts on all the seating, all doors are secure…We'll be totally fine." Puck stated. "And we tied Artie down, so no worries there."

"We're good!" Artie cried from the back.

Quinn turned to examine the rest of the bus. There was a three-seater leather couch along the right side of the RV, and a booth-style eating area beyond that, right under a large TV. On the left side, Mike and Tina were sprawled in good-size armchair, next to a kitchen area with a sink and mini-stove.

"Kurt dumped coffee down the sink before all of the plumbing was hooked up, so if you smell that, blame him." Tina explained.

Kurt scoffed. "The sink's the size of a teacup. Anybody would have spilled it everywhere."

At the other end of the bus was a bedroom with a curtained door, and what Quinn assumed would be a tiny bathroom.

"And the toilet's even smaller than a teacup, so…be careful." Mike offered.

Quinn grimaced and squeezed Rachel's hand at her little noise of disgust.

Overall, the RV was gigantic, and there was no possible way that they wouldn't crash somewhere along the line. Quinn settled into the booth with Rachel, glad that it was like they were driving a tank because they'd be less likely to be injured.

Sure, they could crash through the side of a building because Finn had enough trouble with a miniature bus, but at least they would be alive.

"Away we go!" Finn yelled, and a moment later the RV jerked forward, dropping back onto the road and leaving big brown splotches in Quinn's yard where grass had once been.

Rachel shut her eyes, and Quinn did the same, and they were off.

~ooooooooooooo~

Quinn learned very quickly-within about thirty minutes, actually-the good and bad things about riding in an RV. For instance, they never needed to stop. Snacks were stocked and the gas tank was full, and nobody had vomited yet, so they rumbled right along.

The bathroom was free to be used, but there was never any doubt what anybody was doing in there, so _that _was unsettling, and Quinn opened the closet with Brittany's half-inflated raft about an hour into the drive and nearly gave herself a heart attack.

"I SAID DON'T GO NEAR IT!" Santana roared, helping her shove the door closed again.

Quinn tried to calm her racing heart.

Rachel pulled her into her side when she sat back down, vowing to never ever open any doors at all for the rest of her life.

Mercedes pulled out Monopoly, which is exactly what the trip would need-anger, frustration, impatience, and flying plastic houses-and Kurt put Harry Potter on the TV. Tina and Mike fell asleep, and it was actually a peaceful couple hours out of Ohio.

Things had degenerated a bit by the time they hit Indiana.

"I'm not cheating!" Artie argued, shoving a wad of fake money in Mercedes' face. "I passed go and didn't pick up two hundred, so I paid my income tax!"

"I saw you pick it up!"

"I was sorting money! I'm the banker!"

Kurt slammed his hand violently against the table. "Lord Tubbington ate my thimble again!"

Quinn could feel Rachel relaxing against her side, despite the noise. She understood; it was familiar. But she also knew that it was odd for Rachel to not have broken into song by now. Or turned up the radio or started a license plate game or anything at all other than quietly watch her friends argue over a board game.

"Hey, guys, there's a weigh station up ahead." Finn yelled over his shoulder. Quinn felt the RV drift. "Do we exit for it?"

Brittany sat up. "Yes!"

"No, Finn, we're not an eighteen-wheeler." Quinn called back, rolling her eyes.

Puck looked doubtful. "You sure? 'Cause this thing's a beast."

"Yeah, Quinn, they might need to weigh us to make sure we're not gonna break through the road."

Kurt snorted. "Britt, please be quiet and help me get my thimble out of your cat's throat."

"Alright, I'm exiting!" Finn shouted, losing control of his voice a bit because of how close he was cutting it.

"No, Finn, we are not carrying commercial goods!" Quinn protested, clutching the table as the bus swerved slightly. "We do not need to be weighed!"

"How many wheels does this thing actually have?" Puck wondered casually.

Mike nodded with Quinn. "Dude, if you take this exit, you'll embarrass us all."

Because _that_ would be new.

The RV swerved back the other way and a pile of little green plastic houses was dumped on the floor.

"Okay, we're good! No worries!" Finn called once he'd composed himself.

Lord Tubbington leapt out of Brittany's grasp to roll around in the little houses under the table. Quinn figured he'd eat them if he hadn't already swallowed a metal thimble.

The arguing died down about halfway through Indiana, and Finn traded places with Puck at a rest stop. While Finn's style of driving was more stilted and slow, Puck's was smooth and let's-try-and-break-the-sound-barrier fast.

"If we had wings, we'd take off right now." Tina muttered.

There probably were wings somewhere on this monster.

"It might happen anyway." Artie remarked, watching the scenery fly by.

Rachel shifted against Quinn's side, and Quinn was surprised because she thought her girlfriend had fallen asleep. Rachel sat up straight and placed her hands flat on the table, looking like she was gathering herself for something.

"You gonna table dance for us, Berry?" Santana smirked.

Quinn narrowed her eyes.

Santana opened her mouth again, but Brittany nudged her shoulder before she could speak. "San, don't." she whispered. "She might put you in that closet."

The closet with the now almost fully inflated raft jammed into it. It sat there untouched, ready to jump out at the next moron who would open the door.

Quinn nodded. "What are you doing, babe?" she asked, turning her attention to Rachel.

Rachel kissed the side of her head and climbed over her lap and out of the booth-Quinn ran her hands helpfully over Rachel's legs and butt-and Rachel was careful not to land on Kurt, the cat, or the minefield of tiny plastic houses.

"We have been driving for over six hours, and it is about time that we sing a song." Rachel proclaimed, sticking her hands on her hips and watching her friends' reactions.

Quinn smiled right away. She reached over Kurt's head and poked Rachel's thigh, and Rachel flushed a bit bashfully when she looked at her.

"No Broadway." Santana stated immediately.

Quinn cut her eyes across the table.

"Adele?" Tina suggested.

"Okay, we want to sing, not drive off a cliff in despair." Artie vetoed.

"Something classic?"

"Oh God, Britt, Tub's vomiting." Mike pointed. "Thimble's coming up…Yep, definitely coming up."

"Okay!" Rachel clapped loudly over the sound of the cat retching. "Sweet Home Alabama! Thank you for your votes. You brought your guitar, right Artie?"

He had, and somebody handed it to him because his chair was still strapped down-which was probably a safety hazard in itself-and he played the opening notes easily. Quinn pulled Rachel onto her lap and bounced her knees to the beat, and Rachel clapped her hands until everybody starting singing.

Puck joined, until he swerved off the road and hit the wake-up bumps, terrifying all of his passengers.

"Sweet home Alabama," Rachel sang loudly and freely, turning to sing "Lord I'm comin' home to you," right in Quinn's face.

And Quinn sang it right back, deafened and pleased and dancing and twanging her voice to make Rachel smile, because this was the Rachel Berry she knew.

~oooooooooo~

Puck had to pull over right around midnight, unable to keep his eyes open, so they situated themselves in a parking spot at a rest stop in Indiana, about half an hour away from the world's largest ball of paint.

"How is that even a real thing?" Mercedes questioned when Mike informed them of its existence.

"Well, he took a baseball and kept painting layers on it, and now it's like the size of Rachel, so-"

"She wasn't asking how it was made." Kurt interrupted, struggling with the safety latches on the cabinets. "She was saying it's idiotic."

"It is idiotic." Quinn threw in helpfully.

But it would only be a short stop tomorrow, so nobody complained too much. They had half-frozen Kid Cuisines and milk and cereal for dinner, not wanting to press their luck with the oven quite yet. Better to wait until they were closer to the ocean to set the bus on fire.

Quinn handed Rachel an apple, and then stood next to her and crossed her arms. Ten kids lined up outside an RV in the middle of the night at a rest stop in Indiana.

Everything was going exactly as Quinn expected.

"Isn't there a button or something, dude?" Puck called through the door, watching Finn try to expand the sides of the bus.

There were two "pop out" sections, which would create more sleeping room, but they hadn't yet "popped out."

Finn stuck his head out an open window. "Shouldn't it be more than a button?" he asked. "Like, if you were goin' down the highway and you accidentally hit that button, the bus would just be, like, _expanding_, and-"

"Oh my God." Tina muttered, hand to her face.

Artie rolled up to the door. "Maybe there's a lever? Or a button with a cover?"

Rachel sighed and tilted her head back so it rested against Quinn's shoulder. The lights were on in the RV, so it looked like a jack-o-lantern, and they watched Finn's head bob past several windows. Rachel was halfway through her apple when some kind of engine whirred and the two partitions expanded out from the bus.

"Oh my God, make sure they don't fall out!" Brittany cried, rushing forward like she was going to hold them up if they did.

Santana caught her arm before her girlfriend could get sucked into the mechanism.

Nobody was awake enough to argue over sleeping arrangements, so Quinn didn't protest when she and Rachel were assigned the bunk over the driver and passenger seats. But then she looked at that bunk and knew that she should've protested. They'd drawn the shortest straw out of a batch of very short straws.

"How the hell are we supposed to get up there?" she questioned, gesturing vaguely at the small bunk.

She'd have to vault. Maybe obtain some kind of springboard, or master tandem aerial acrobatics so that Rachel would be able to come with her.

"Just climb." Mike suggested, rolling into his own bed on the large armchair with Tina.

Quinn stared at him.

"Girl, you fall outta there in the night and you'll end up in the hospital." Mercedes warned, like she thought that would be helpful.

Puck waved her off. "Nah, there's a barrier that pulls up. You're good."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "So we're sleeping in a tiny crib ten feet off the ground."

"I don't think it's ten feet, Rachel." Brittany stated sagely. She turned to Quinn with a smile. "Maybe you could use gymnastics to get up there!"

Finn shuffled out of the bathroom and past the pulled-out couch, and lifted the curtain away from the window, revealing built-in slats to climb up to the bunk. "I accidentally found them looking for the button earlier." He explained.

Rachel climbed up first, and Quinn stood at the bottom of the "ladder" to catch her if she fell.

"Stay away from the edge, bud." She instructed as she made her own way up.

Rachel was pressed into the far side of the bunk, just short enough to sit up without hitting her head on the ceiling. Quinn climbed over and pulled the curtain closed and the barrier up-flimsy, definitely not trustworthy-and knocked her head about four times before just giving up and lying next to Rachel.

"This is very, very tiny." Rachel whispered, snuggling into her side and wrapping an arm around Quinn to make sure she wouldn't roll over the edge.

Quinn knew she'd just take them both over.

"Even smaller than that bunk bed." Quinn added, remembering what had once been the greatest and worst thing in her life.

Rachel smelled like apples and toothpaste, and she was soft in her fluffy pink cupcake pajamas, and Quinn smiled despite her claustrophobia.

"I'll make them give us the bed tomorrow." Rachel assured, squeezing Quinn closer. "Let me know if you need to climb down and get some space."

Jump down, fall down, roll over and plummet down. All more likely to happen than climb down.

Quinn nodded. "Night, baby. Love you." She murmured.

"Wait, Quinn," Rachel ran a hand through her blonde hair and made sure her eyes were still open. Quinn raised an eyebrow. "I'm-I liked today. Just so you know. I don't know how this trip is going to go, but it was fun today. So that's…"

She trailed off and frowned like she really didn't know what was going on in her own head, and Quinn tilted forward an inch and kissed her nose.

"That's good." She finished for Rachel, lips quirked up.

Rachel hummed quietly. "Yes. It's good."

"And I'm taking you to a Wizard of Oz museum tomorrow, so that should be even better." Quinn murmured, eyes sparkling.

Rachel had only watched the movie about three hundred times since she'd gotten her sight back.

"You found a Wizard of Oz museum?" she questioned, voice low and eyes wide like Quinn had just told her she'd robbed a bank.

Quinn nodded. "I don't know why there's one in the middle of Indiana, but yeah. We'll stop there tomorrow."

It seemed sketchy, the more she thought about it. But nothing could be less legitimate than the world's largest ball of paint.

Rachel kissed her lips and held her there for a moment. "Maybe they'll have souvenirs." She mused softly. "Like ruby red slippers."

"Or dogs." Quinn indulged. "Little terrier dogs named Toto. We can take one home."

Rachel tapped her chin. "Don't joke. I'll make that happen."

"OKAY, THE COUCH IS FOLDING IN ON ITSELF. EVERYBODY UP." Kurt screeched from ten feet below, and Quinn figured that maybe they hadn't gotten the worst sleeping assignment of them all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

**Indiana to Kansas**

Finn rolled them up to a McDonald's in the morning for breakfast, after Rachel and Quinn had safely extracted themselves from their little nest and the couch had been put back together. Mercedes shot out of her seat when she realized he was going to try to fit through the drive thru.

"No, Finn, you need to park." She demanded. "Stop yourself right here."

He grinned back at her and gestured up to a sign at the entrance of the drive thru. "Relax, Mercedes. The clearance is 12'2." We're only 12.'"

She stared at him like she couldn't decide if he was being serious or not.

"Yeah, uh, that's only two inches Finn." Artie contributed. "I wouldn't risk it."

Quinn watched Rachel and Brittany pick up the four rolls of toilet paper Lord Tubbington had shredded in the night when he'd realized he couldn't reach Mercedes. To _maul_ her.

"Dude, we'll drive away without a roof. Or with McDonald's on our back." Puck remarked, though he looked delighted at the prospect.

"It'll take forever if we all go inside." Finn complained.

Quinn pressed her fingers to her temples. "You know, even if you could fit under it, you wouldn't be able to round that corner, so we'd either tip over and roll down the hill, or end up in their kitchen, so…"

Finn parked, and everybody ate breakfast except for Rachel because McDonald's was a "despicable establishment," and Quinn went back to the RV with her for fruit and toast. Finn side-swiped a trashcan on the way out of the lot and received many congratulations that he'd made it all the way to Indiana before he finally hit something.

The world's largest ball of paint was exactly as boring as it sounded. Puck seemed ashamed that he'd recommended it, and they left after Brittany's loud suggestion of "Can we roll it down the hill?"

They stopped at a giant lady's leg sundial, which just really shouldn't exist, and Quinn was surprised to find that it fit its name perfectly. A giant plastic leg planted in the ground, acting as a sundial.

Puck hugged the thigh of the massive bent leg and forced everybody to take his picture.

"This is a _real_ woman!" He shouted, gaining the attention of other tourists and causing Quinn, Rachel, Tina, and Kurt to turn on their heels and walk away.

"She doesn't have any arms." Brittany countered loudly. She had Lord Tubbington on a leash and was struggling to keep him from scaling the leg. "Or a right leg. Or a body, actually…Puck, it's a _leg_."

Quinn figured that the sooner they got out of oddity-packed central Indiana, the better.

A gravel road took them to the Wizard of Oz Museum and Gift Shop, and Rachel's smile grew with every jolt and rumble of the bus. She squealed when she saw the wooden cut-outs of the characters standing on the front lawn.

Quinn silently thanked God that it wasn't some sketchy, dilapidated old shack museum turned meth lab.

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed, as brightly as ever, draped over the arm chair with her face pressed to the window.

Quinn, and everybody else who'd missed seeing her like that, watched her fondly.

Puck laughed loudly, pointing at the scarecrow cut-out. "Oh man, look, it's Finn."

Rachel was humming "If I Only Had a Brain" before she even stepped foot off the bus. "Let's take a picture with Dorothy!" she requested, dragging Quinn over to the cut-out.

Dorothy seemed to be having a few problems, because she was missing half of her arm and tilting sideways like she'd been wasted last night, but Rachel didn't seem to care.

Quinn smiled and pointed down at Toto. "A little dog we can take home."

Rachel laughed, but Puck crouched down and pulled on the terrier cut-out.

"Don't un-earth it!" Kurt shrieked.

"Is this like, _glued_ into the ground or something? Cemented down?"

"It's probably stakes." Mike offered. "Like a tent."

Kurt kicked at Puck's wrists. "You'll snap it in half! They're in bad enough condition already!"

Rachel left that mess in the yard and entered the museum, which was only one room-large and connected to a cozy gift shop. The floor was ugly yellow tile, probably supposed to resemble the Yellow Brick Road, and the walls were covered in movie stills and homemade memorabilia.

It wasn't a particularly nice museum, but Rachel could _see_ it, and the little wooden flying monkeys and blue checkered dresses, and that was enough for Quinn to just sit back and watch her girlfriend enjoy it all.

"It's cool, isn't it?" Quinn mused once Rachel moved into the gift shop.

Rachel held Quinn's hand and tilted her head. "It smells odd, and it might fall down tomorrow, but it is very pleasant and I'm glad I could see it all."

Quinn nodded. It probably _would_ fall down tomorrow.

"So thank you for bringing me here, baby." Rachel said, a little quieter. "I needed it."

Quinn stopped and caught Rachel's eye and presented her with a music box. Rachel looked at it like it was an engagement ring.

It was bright-if not a little tacky-on the inside, with a yellow plastic road and a tiny green Oz and a picture of all the characters skipping along, but it played "Somewhere over the Rainbow," and Quinn knew that's what would matter to Rachel.

Rachel pressed her lips together and surged forward to hug Quinn, clutching the box tightly in one hand.

"Your souvenir." Quinn chuckled into her ear.

"I love you so much, baby." Rachel murmured. "Thank you so much."

Quinn left the museum with a stuffed Toto, pleased to find that the wooden Toto on the front lawn hadn't been snapped in half by Noah Puckerman. Brittany left with some kind of mechanical flying monkey that would end up on the side of the interstate within an hour because of the noises it made, and Mike left without his hat because he'd put it on the Tin Man to take a picture with him.

Finn turned them around to retrieve it, and Quinn took the opportunity to take a picture with the Cowardly Lion, wrapping her arms around him and gazing up at him like a lover because it made Rachel laugh.

And then they left Indiana, and its array of useless oddities, and drifted right into Illinois.

~ooooooooooooo~

Quinn rolled out of the bunk in the middle of the night on day three. It had only been a matter of time.

She'd declined Kurt and Mercedes' offer to sleep in the bed with them because she liked the closeness with Rachel in the tiny bunk. It reminded her of Key Largo. Of taking care of her buddy. And so it was nobody's fault but her own when she rolled in her sleep and fell eight feet to the floor at two in the morning.

She was shocked, for a moment, and she didn't know where she was or why her ankle was _throbbing_, but then the lights flipped on and tired voices cried out from the fold-out couch and she realized exactly what had happened.

"_Shit_." Quinn groaned, right as Rachel's sleepy, mussed head peeked over the edge of the bunk, wide-eyed and worried.

"Oh my God, are you okay?!" Tina cried, blearily rising from the armchair.

"Holy-what was that?"

"Did something fall through the roof?" Brittany's thick voice questioned.

"Jesus-_shit_." Quinn hissed, clutching her ankle. "Rachel, back up." she called up to the overhead bunk, picturing her girlfriend pitching headfirst over the edge and landing on Quinn's stomach. "Be careful."

Puck emerged from the bedroom, tipping sideways into the countertop. "Oh, dude, it's Quinn."

Quinn lay in a heap, staring at the ceiling and blinking against the light, and several confused faces appeared in her peripheral vision, with lines in them from pillows and blankets and violent cases of bedhead.

"Did you fall?" Finn asked, crouching down in front of her.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "No. I jumped. I decided to leap out of bed in the middle of the night."

Finn nodded warily.

"Quinn?" Rachel's soft, disembodied voice called. "Are you alright? Should I come down?"

"It looks like she's sleeping on the floor tonight, Rachel." Kurt answered.

Quinn scoffed. "I'm fine, babe. I just sprained my ankle a little."

"How do you sprain your ankle _a little_?" Santana asked, trying to free one of Brittany's legs from the mechanism of the fold-out couch.

"Well, it's not twisted all the way off, so-"

"Okay, I'm coming down." Rachel stated resolutely.

Puck got up to catch her before Quinn even gave him the order, and Mike moved Quinn to the armchair with some ice and a blanket for shock, at Kurt's instruction. Rachel dropped their pillows and blankets into Puck's arms, and then carefully plucked her way down the little ladder.

"Somebody turn the lights back off." Santana complained, dubbing the situation boring enough to ignore now.

Finn complied, and Rachel tripped into the armchair with Quinn, hissing at the ice, and Mike took the overhead bunk while Tina moved to sleep in the dining booth.

And then everybody went back to sleep. Because nothing had fallen from the sky.

Quinn had just plummeted to the ground and hurt herself, like she'd predicted on day one.

~ooooooooooooo~

Puck rolled the RV through Illinois without stopping, and they made it halfway through Missouri before running low on gas. Quinn was pleasantly surprised that they didn't actually run out in the middle of the highway. Sputter pathetically and then roll to a halt on the side of the road.

At the gas station, Quinn watched with much amusement as Rachel nearly had an aneurysm when she saw that it cost over four hundred dollars to fill up the tank.

"It's diesel, Rachel. This thing's a beast." Puck explained, banging his fist fondly against the orange siding.

"Hey, shut it!" Someone yelled out of the open window.

Brittany's head appeared there a minute later, and she threw a banana peel in Quinn's direction. "Can you throw this away for me, please?" she called out loudly.

Quinn stared at where her face had been. "There's a trash can in there, Britt."

A pink sock-clad foot appeared in the window, which meant that Brittany was either doing a hand stand on the couch or she'd been dismembered. "Artie put his tuna in there, and I don't want to take the top off because it'll make Tina throw up, and if she throws up then Kurt will throw up, and it'll all be a lot worse than a banana peel on the floor."

Rachel picked the peel off the ground and threw it away, and then she bought juice for herself and Sour Patch Kids for Quinn, and they settled back on the bus for the short trip to Kansas City.

Finn's plan was to see a Royals game, but Quinn figured they'd get lost in the middle of the city and give up on that halfway through the night.

Two hours later, they rumbled off Interstate 70 and pulled into Kauffmann Stadium parking.

Puck stood up while the bus chugged through the long line of traffic. "On our left, we have Arrowhead Stadium," he gestured like a tour guide, "home to the incredibly awful Kansas City Chiefs, and on our right, we have Kauffman, home to the equally incredibly awful Kansas City Royals. Welcome to the home of shit sports teams, people."

"How much is parking here?" Tina called out, ignoring him completely. "Seven hundred dollars?"

Mercedes laughed. "Is there a hideous orange bus fee too? Do we have to pay the medical bills of the people who are blinded by our RV?"

"Wait, dude, seriously, where's parking?" Finn asked loudly, leaning low over the steering wheel and squinting his eyes at all the little signs.

He started swerving to the right. "We're a commercial vehicle, right?"

Quinn almost punched her hand through the glass window.

"_Finn_, we are not a commercial vehicle." She stated slowly, resisting the urge to smack him.

"Oh yeah, we didn't get weighed."

Mike squinted out the window. "It says cars over two tons go right."

"Maybe we should've gotten weighed."

Quinn held both her hands up and glanced around, looking for some sense, because she really couldn't believe the people surrounding her. Rachel ran a hand along her forearm and smiled at her softly, and Quinn relaxed.

"Does anyone have a costume?" Santana asked loudly, digging through her bags at the back of the bus. "I don't want any of these people to see me climbing out of this dumbass bus."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Because _everybody_ knows you in Kansas City."

Rachel walked up to the front of the RV and crouched between the two seats. "We're over two tons, Finn, so go right." She instructed. "It'll be twenty dollars, and just follow the sign for buses and park in that line of coaches over there, okay?"

Quinn thanked God every day for her sensible, helpful girlfriend.

"Thank you, Rachel." She said with a smile when Rachel sat back down with her.

Rachel grinned. "I've never been to a baseball game before. This is exciting. It's like a show, but less staged and more audience-interactive."

Quinn hummed sagely. "So you'll be streaking, then? Right through the outfield? Completely naked?"

Rachel's ears turned red, and she pressed her lips together and smacked Quinn's shoulder.

"Because that's a show I'd like to see." Quinn laughed, trying to grab onto a squirming Rachel to kiss her cheek.

Rachel relented, and Quinn kissed her cheek, and then her barely suppressed smile, and pulled away to find Santana standing by the couch wearing a brunette bob wig and dark, reflective sunglasses.

Quinn stayed silent. She was not touching that situation with a ten foot pole.

Finn parked, and everybody disembarked and walked about nine miles-according to Kurt- to get their tickets. Quinn hobbled, supported by Rachel, Mike, and a cheerleading brace around her ankle.

Brittany had to go back to the bus because she'd left one of the windows open and Lord Tubbington was bound to escape, and Puck had to go back because he had a pocket knife, a fork, a Gerber tool, and a lighter in various compartments in his pants, and Quinn wondered briefly if he was _trying_ to get arrested.

Their seats were on the first-base line, and Rachel was far more fascinated with the fountain show beyond right field than with anything happening on the clay.

Quinn was ready to dive into the fountain by the end of the first inning.

"I really thought the middle of the country would be cooler." Artie lamented.

Mike frowned. "Why would you think that?"

Artie tilted his head like he wasn't sure. "Well, like, the deeper you go into a steak, the more frozen it gets."

Sound logic.

"But if you drill into the Earth, you reach a hot ball of magma." Tina countered.

Artie nodded resolutely. "So what we've done here is drilled into a steak and reached a hot ball of magma known as Kansas City."

Rachel rubbed at her forehead, and Quinn watched her closely.

"You okay, bud?" she whispered, knocking her shoulder into Rachel's over the blue plastic armrest.

Rachel's smile was tight. "It's just very hot. And it's sort of hurting my eyes."

Quinn turned to face her more fully, ready to run for ice or a wet cloth or migraine pills or whatever Rachel needed. "Does your head hurt too?"

Rachel hesitated, but nodded.

Quinn stood up immediately and held her hand out for Rachel. "Come on, sweetheart. I'll get you a frozen lemonade and we'll sit in the shade for a bit."

Rachel looked grateful for that, and she took Quinn's hand and followed her, squeezing past their line of friends.

"Don't touch her." Quinn warned, slipping past Puck and Finn.

They grinned and held their hands up innocently.

"That guy keeps spitting over the fence." Kurt stated, nose scrunched up and pointing at somebody in the home dugout. "It's disgusting."

Santana scoffed. "They're all disgusting. That one hasn't let go of his balls since he walked on the field."

"Why have you been staring at his balls the whole time?" Quinn questioned, knocking into Santana's knee as she passed.

"I'll shove your girlfriend in the fountain, Fabray."

Quinn raised an eyebrow at her. "Me too, please."

Mercedes groaned. "Oh God, you're right. Why is he holding himself like that?"

"You guys, my seat's so hot I think I'll be branded if I lean back." Puck drawled.

"Just-oh my God! If you'd put your shirt back on!"

It was the last thing Quinn heard as she walked up the steps with Rachel. She plowed right through a pile of peanut shells, and then a river of soda, watching Rachel's feet to make sure she didn't trip and fall backwards.

"I like their outfits." Rachel commented over her shoulder.

Quinn put a hand on the small of her back. "The colors? Or the design?"

"The baby blue is pleasant." Rachel replied, stopping at the top of the steps so that Quinn could walk next to her. "And I like the Twins' colors too. They're very patriotic."

Quinn smiled because her girlfriend had a greater appreciation for colors than anybody she'd ever met.

"I'm not sure what a _Twin_ is, other than one half of a biological duo, but their outfits are lovely."

"Twin cities, Rach. Minneapolis and St. Paul." Quinn supplied with a laugh, heading off to the frozen lemonade stand.

She bought an original for Rachel and a strawberry for herself, and they were walking over to a plastic picnic table right outside their section when a guy moving way too fast in the opposite direction, in a ketchup-stained Minnesota jersey and beer hat, knocked Rachel's shoulder hard enough for her to drop her drink.

It was frozen, and the top was on, so it just rolled anti-climactically off a few feet to the right, and Rachel crouched down quietly to pick it back up.

Quinn spun around and almost flung her own beverage at the back of the guy's head. "Watch it!" she cried instead.

He looked back with raised eyebrows and a laugh, and then kept on his way.

Quinn figured that his team was about to be shut out by one of the worst teams in the league, so that would be punishment enough. No reason to attack him at the moment.

"Come on, baby." She murmured, taking the frozen drink from Rachel's hands and wiping off the grit.

They sat on the same side of the picnic table, and Rachel rubbed her eyes and struggled to open her plastic spoon.

Quinn stuck her own spoon in Rachel's lemonade and then felt her girlfriend's forehead. "Are you okay, Rachel?" she asked quietly. "That guy was an asshole."

"He was just in a hurry." Rachel chided softly.

Quinn watched her shut her eyes tightly.

"Should we go lie down?" she whispered.

Rachel shook her head and glanced at her, and then carved a small scoop of frozen lemonade out of her cup. "I'm okay. It was just too sunny for a minute."

She held the spoon out in front of Quinn's face, and Quinn eyed it warily.

"Just taste it." Rachel prodded, lips twitching.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Why? So you can see if it's poisoned?"

Rachel sighed and dropped her spoon back down, and Quinn took pity on her pout and grabbed her wrist, guiding the lemonade into her mouth. She chomped down around it and made exaggerated "mmm" noises, glad to elicit a smile from Rachel.

"Can we stay out here?" Rachel asked in a small voice, and Quinn stopped slurping her drink and looked at her girlfriend seriously.

"Of course we can, baby. It's not too bright?"

Rachel shook her head.

Quinn scooted closer and leaned into her side. "Just let me know if you want to go back to the bus, okay?" she urged. "We can eat all Kurt's food and fool around in the bed if you like."

Rachel's lips quirked up.

Quinn held out a spoonful of frozen pink drink, half-smiling. "Now eat this and tell me if it's poisoned, buddy."

They watched the rest of the game on the big TVs, joined intermittently by their friends, and Quinn wished she could find that guy who'd knocked into Rachel earlier because his team lost 8-0 and she just really wanted to rub it in his stupid ketchup face.

Her friends emerged from their seats bright red and sweaty, peeling clothes off their body and gum off their shoes, and pointing at the small crown logo now branded into Puck's back because he'd refused to listen to reason.

"So, my thighs welded to my seat and I'm pretty sure I ripped off half my skin just standing up."

"Oh my God, Santana!" Mercedes looked disgusted.

"At least you weren't wearing jeans. I don't think these are ever coming off." Kurt proclaimed, pulling at his waistband.

Quinn turned away because she didn't want to witness anything that could possibly happen at the moment.

They returned to the bus, with a foul ball Finn said he caught, but Tina claimed he'd fallen down two sets of bleachers to steal it from a Twins fan, and Quinn lay down with Rachel in the bed, even though Rachel protested at first, and everybody left them alone so that they could fall asleep for a few hours.

Quinn dragged her hands through Rachel's hair because she knew it was soothing and it would take away her headache, and Rachel sighed contentedly when she finally got to shut her eyes.

~ooooooooooooo~

That evening, they ate barbecue out of plastic trays on the edge of one of the many municipal fountains in downtown Kansas City. Rachel stuck with coleslaw and pasta salad, and Quinn shamelessly funneled ribs and macaroni into her mouth.

It was better than Pop-Tarts and frozen dinners. She would take advantage.

"Tubby wants to go swimming." Brittany informed, clutching the cat in her arms so that he couldn't dive into the fountain.

Kurt shook his head and wiped at his face with a napkin. "He just doesn't know there's water in there."

"Let him go." Mercedes suggested, pointing a fork at Brittany. "He's a demon. He might dissolve in there."

She could only hope.

Artie frowned. "I think the water has to be holy for that to happen."

"Whoa, dude, what's this yellow stuff in the beans?" Puck prodded curiously at his food. "Plastic? Or like-"

Quinn rolled her eyes and swallowed her mouthful. "It's corn. The vegetable?"

Puck nodded in relief that it wasn't toxic or foreign, and Quinn felt pressure on her cheek and turned to see that Rachel was trying to wipe her mouth with a napkin, lit by the shops and street lights.

"You have barbecue sauce all over your face, baby." Rachel informed, smiling fondly.

Quinn pursed her lips and let Rachel wipe it away, and then squirmed away when Rachel took too long.

"Guys, when does school even start?" Tina asked, looking around at everybody in general.

Rachel dropped her napkin and turned her gaze back to her coleslaw, like she was annoyed. Quinn watched her.

Finn laughed. "I don't even know what day it is."

Quinn was actually unsure about what _month_ it was. She discreetly checked her phone and saw that they were halfway through July. She wouldn't be surprised if she was stranded in some desert in Arizona with her friends while Yale started the fall semester in late August.

"August twenty-second." Santana informed, pointing at Finn. "Deliver me home alive, Hudson."

Brittany let go of Lord Tubbington, and he slid himself right over the blind edge of the fountain and landed in the water. It was only a fraction of a second before he violently scrabbled his way out, clawing at Brittany's back and knocking Styrofoam containers of food onto the ground.

"Mine's the same. Rachel's is a week later." Quinn spoke up like that hadn't just happened.

Brittany held her cat down by his scruff, breathing heavily.

Quinn glanced at Rachel. "I thought we could go to Red Rocks, since we'll be in Colorado soon." She suggested to the group. "It's where-I mean, The Beatles, U2, Rush, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Nicks have all performed there. And, I know you like Carole King, Rachel."

Rachel looked up and met her gaze, almost resignedly.

"Concert in the mountains. That sounds awesome." Mike agreed.

Quinn nodded. "And then in Denver, there's a theater performance of-"

"Quinn, don't plan things just for me." Rachel interrupted quietly.

Quinn blinked at her. "Well, not _just_ for you. But you'd enjoy it. It's-"

Rachel was shaking her head, and Quinn cut herself off and frowned. She glanced at Mike and Tina, who shrugged and went back to their pulled pork.

"Rachel, what's _wrong_?" she asked, reaching out to still Rachel's wrist because coleslaw could wait.

Rachel shook her head, but stared at her fork. "I'm fine, baby."

"You're not fine." Puck called out from Quinn's other side, and Quinn nodded her agreement. "You're like a little shell these past few months. Not fine, dude."

Rachel sighed heavily. "Can we just have dinner, please?" she requested sharply.

Quinn shook her head shortly. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then we'll go to the musical in Denver, and to Red Rocks, and then-"

"I don't want to do those things, Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed angrily. "Stop trying-I don't-I don't know what I want, okay? Maybe I _shouldn't_ be so obsessed with musical theater, or maybe I _shouldn't _go to NYADA, so please don't drag me to those places and tell me that that's what I'm supposed to like!"

Rachel's little plastic fork snapped in half and Quinn's eyes dropped to the sound. She was very confused.

"Look, Rachel, if you don't want-"

"I used to be blind." Rachel said bluntly. Loudly, so that a few strangers turned. "I was blind, but I could sing, so I was special. I knew exactly who I was and what I could do and where I was going, because there was _nobody like me_. But now I'm going to a school with thousands of people _just like me_, and I have no idea who I'm supposed to be."

It was like cloudy waters clearing right in front of Quinn's eyes. Rachel's chest heaved and her eyes watered, and Quinn just watched.

"Don't suggest places for me, or tell me what you think I'll like even though I'll probably like it, because I need to just _be along_ on this trip." Rachel sounded desperate, eyes boring through her coleslaw. "To just go where it takes me, and find out who I'm supposed to be now that I can _see_, and I just really, really need to see the Pacific ocean."

Quinn swallowed. Nobody said anything.

"I don't know why." Rachel muttered, poking at her food again with a broken fork. "I just need to see it. And then…I'll decide."

Quinn sat for a minute, processing that, and she didn't even turn when Lord Tubbington jumped back in the fountain, taking Brittany's barbecue chicken with him.

Quinn gently took the broken fork out of Rachel's hand and replaced it with her own, and Rachel didn't look at her, but she didn't lean away either.

"I vote whitewater rafting." Puck proclaimed, easing the tension.

And Quinn agreed. Everybody was watching her like they expected her to fix Rachel. She'd get her girlfriend to the Pacific, and she'd make the journey one to remember.


End file.
